


Affiliated Affections

by Ahmerst



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M, Slight spoilers for Koujaku's good route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahmerst/pseuds/Ahmerst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ren can recognize how AllMates take after their owners, and while he may consider himself an exception, he's far from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affiliated Affections

They say that Allmates take after their owners, and Ren isn’t entirely sure he subscribes to that theory for himself, but he can see it in others. In the way that Clara will talk for ages about the most trivial things, insists on keeping his attention for hours when he wants nothing more than to escape along with Aoba.

In the way that Tori will sit, quiet and almost morose, a bird of few words as smoke puffs from his nostrils as his beak works at his cigar.

In the way that Noiz’s rabbits are so young, yet so fierce. Fearless in their attacks, no matter what opponent they face.

But most of all, he sees it in how Beni treats him.

Beni comes to him at all hours of the day, the sound of his wings light as he lands on the rail of the balcony. In how his beak raps against the window as the morning sun, or the pale light of the moon, spills in.

It’s the same way that Koujaku shows up as he pleases, no matter the hour. Eager to greet, to talk, to be near. There are excuses for each sudden appearance, from wanting homemade meals to checking on health, but their motives are always obvious in a sweet and sincere sort of way.

Koujaku brings a bouquet of flowers, offhandedly mentions they’re from a customer. He says he’s allergic, that the pollen from the roses and lilies make his eyes water and his nose itch, and Aoba offhandedly accepts it. He doesn’t mention that not once does Koujaku sneeze, that his eyes are clear and awake, that nothing about him suggests he’s suffering through a bout of hay fever.

And in turn, Ren makes no show of accepting the small wildflowers that Beni brings, pale daisies and bright poppies. It’s not that he gives them to Ren, but that he leaves them on the windowsill, like the silent offerings of a servant to a temple.

Ren collects them between gentle teeth, gathers them to put beside the bouquet that Aoba places in a vase.

Neither of them talk about it, but they both understand.

When Koujaku cuts Aoba’s hair for the first time, both Ren and Beni watch from the sidelines. It’s a quaint scene, and the silence between them is intimate in a way no conversation could produce. Beni and Ren keep out of the way, Beni’s eyes narrowed in his normal scrutiny as Ren’s tongue lolls out with its usual casual interest.

It’s halfway through that Ren feels Beni’s gaze on him, sharp and interested. He doesn’t acknowledge it in words so much as he shifts closer, paws folding under himself as he settles nearer.

“It’s about damn time,” comes Beni’s robotic chirp, and Ren can’t quite calculate if it’s in reference to his actions, or the haircut happening in front of them.

Beni’s feathers ruffle as his little wooden sandals click against the floor. He closes the last of the distance between them, fur and feathers pressing together as they listen to the soft snip of scissors, blue locks falling to the floor before them.

When Koujaku puts his scissors aside and lets Aoba admire the finished look in a hand mirror, Aoba grins at his own reflection.

“I like it,” he says. “Not that it won’t take some getting used to, but it’s definitely not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Not as bad? Do you even know who you’re talking about here?” Koujaku says, voice annoyed and brusque, though his lips turn up in a smile.

Koujaku runs his fingers through Aoba’s hair one last time, loosens the strands affectionately and pushes them every which way until he’s content with how it looks. Beni turns his head then, his beak working at a tuft of Ren’s fur, preening and arranging it just right.

As Koujaku finishes and Aoba hands the mirror back, he returns it with a kiss on the cheek. It’s something sweet and affectionate, appreciative. And as Ren turns his head and presses his muzzle to Beni, lets his little pink tongue give him a lick in turn, he thinks maybe he is more like his owner than he ever thought before.


End file.
